


Will You Take Your Place With Me?

by FredAndGinger, SpinalBaby



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Multi, This really has no cohesive plot, beer pong, just Enjolras and Grantaire getting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FredAndGinger/pseuds/FredAndGinger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinalBaby/pseuds/SpinalBaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire meets Enjolras in a coffee shop. Flirting, beer pong, fighting, late night coffee, sexy times, cuteness, protests, and hospital visits ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You Take Your Place With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> My very best friend and I wrote this over the course of three days and we're very proud of it.
> 
> UPDATE  
> We have fanart currently only drawn by us ;__; Will update the links as more comes in.  
> [Drunkjolras](http://spinalcordsaturday.deviantart.com/art/Drunkjolras-Les-Mis-WYTYPWM-Fanart-568147468)  
> [Did you say you thought that was a date?](http://sta.sh/01ic0bez92gj)

Grantaire walked into the Cafe Musain, the little coffee shop that decided to capitalize on

business by feeding over-priced caffeine to desperate college students. A couple of his friends worked there, and despite the fact that they weren’t on duty he was going to try and coerce the barista on duty to give him some discounted mocha lattes.

He wasn’t really looking at the barista when he went up to the counter and ordered, so after he ordered his “whipped double shot vanilla, extra creamer, cinnamon mocha latte with ice” and looked down he noticed that it wasn’t, in fact, the new girl Cosette as he thought it might be, but actually the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

The man behind the counter wore a name tag, neatly engraved “Enjolras”. He had fluffy golden curls that reached just past his chin and striking blue eyes. And the way his lips moved as he muttered obscenities too quietly to hear, likely about the overly complex order...

“And what’s the name on that?” came an annoyed, smooth, voice of a medium tone. His eyes met Grantaire’s only for a moment, but they were filled with cold hatred. He probably hadn’t had his own coffee yet.

“Anything you want it to be, baby.” Grantaire said with a shit eating grin and a wink.

“Excuse me?” Enjolras turned to look at Grantaire and away from his sharpie and paper cup.

“Anything you want it to be.” Grantaire repeated, then wiggled his eyebrows a bit, “ _Baby._ ”

It didn’t even take Enjolras a full second to register his next move, quickly scribbling down on cup, before smashing it into Grantaire’s face. “Get out now.” he snarled at the brunette, clearly unamused.

“I’ll expect you at 8 then.” Grantaire said, saluting and walking towards the door. He opened it, letting the annoying bell ring a bit, and turned back dramatically to blow a kiss at Enjolras. Then he sped out of the cafe.

“Well, that’s another place I can never go again.” Grantaire said to himself taking a sip from his cup. He looked down at it as he walked. In a rather frantic handwriting, the cup said “555-5555 ASSHAT”.

“Well that’s an easy number to remember.” Grantaire said, taking out his phone.

“So we still on for 8 then?” Grantaire typed out, so focused on his phone and the coffee that he almost ran into like five people. Sent.

Later that afternoon Enjolras returned to his dorm room, plopping down on his bed. Finally, relaxation. He swiped open his phone, looking at the plethora of messages from the Les Amis, and one from an unknown number. He opened it up, examining its contents. A wicked grin spread across his face, “Sure, 8 it is. Meet me at the ABC Diner ;)”.

…

Grantaire’s phone had actually died about ten minutes into his class, and he hadn’t bothered to recharge it until about 6:45pm, so that only gave him enough time to agonize over his outfit for a measly hour, trying to find _something_ not entirely covered in paint. He settled on a green v-neck shirt and beanie and the skinny jeans that took him five minutes to squeeze into, but made his ass look great.

He arrived about five minutes before he was supposed to be there and walked nervously into the diner. He was surprised to see a booth seemingly filled with everyone he knew. They were all there, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Bossuet, Joly, Jehan, Feuilly, Bahorel, Marius, Musichetta and Eponine. And then, at the head of it all, was the dreamy blond, wearing a bright red, tight fitting t-shirt that outlined every part of his semi-sculpted lithe body. His jeans were also tight, but he wore them with brown calf high combat boots, that looked like they were probably from American Eagle.

“Oh! You’re early. Welcome to Les Amis, the revolutionaries,” Enjolras smirked, “You see, I admired your spirit earlier in the coffee shop today, and I thought it would make the perfect addition to our meetings.” his eyes glinted deviously. He’d been leading Grantaire on.

“Wait, how is it that every single one of you guys know my good friend Enjy here and never told me?” Grantaire scolded looking around at the table. “And you, Eponine. I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed. We’re roommates for god’s sake.”

Eponine rolled her eyes, “I only told you to come to these meetings like ten times last semester.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Well, since nobody here needs introductions, let’s get started. First order of business, the rights of our fellow LGBT friends.” Enjolras said, dramatically slamming his fist onto the table.

“Easy, June 26th, gay marriage legalized. LGBT rights solved.” Grantaire said, squeezing in next to his traitorous roommate.

Enjolras raised his finger as if he was going to say something, blinking a few times, before shaking his head, “Okay, second order of business…” he sighed deeply, clearly passionate about these meetings.

The meeting wrapped up late at night, with the departure of everyone who was taking political science, leaving to finish writing their thesis paper.

Grantaire was left to walk Eponine back to their apartment in relative silence.

“So, what made you finally decide to show your face at our meetings anyways?” Eponine asked, holding her leftovers in her hands, “You looked all bummed, and Enjolras was ready to kill you everytime you opened up your mouth.” she laughed a little. “And who would have guessed he could turn that red being called ‘Enjy’, he almost matched his shirt.” Eponine laughed a little, smiling back at her roommate.

“I tried, unsuccessfully to pick him up today.” Grantaire admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “I may or may not have called him baby in front of the morning rush.”

“You did WHAT?!” Eponine burst out laughing, grabbing Grantaire's arm for support to keep herself from falling, “Oh god, do you know him at all? He’s all like ‘my only love is social justice’. I don’t think he has ever even kissed anyone before. What did he do, spill coffee in your face?” she nearly snorted with laughter, finding the whole thing absolute comedy gold.

“Actually yeah. But my coffee cup had his number so I sort of, kind of…” Grantaire trailed off muttering a bit.

“‘Sort-of-kind-of’ what?” She asked, restraining her laughter so she could hear better.

“Uh… blew him a kiss from the door.” Grantaire mumbled quickly.

Eponine exploded into laughter, dropping her left overs on the ground as she clung to Grantaire’s arm, wiping budding tears from her eyes with the other, “Oh. My. God. You probably got him all flustered and stuff- I didn’t even think he had feelings for anyone other than a mega-boner for Lady Justice.” she tried to control herself again, straightening out and crossing her arms, “Okay, okay, tell you what. I know where he’s going to be tomorrow night. It’s like one of the only social events he goes to in the whole year, so it’s probably your only chance to court him without all of our friends there, judging you.” They were nearly back to the apartment.

“I will probably do literally anything for that information.” Grantaire said in his most serious tone of voice.

“You have to dress up in that ugly sequined vest your mom sent you for Christmas last year and wear it to all your classes for the rest of the month.” Eponine grinned as she unlocked the door.”

“Aw fuck, Eponine, why you gotta do this to me?” Grantaire sighed dramatically and pretended to think about it for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain. I’ll do it.”

“ _And_ you have to post pictures. Facebook and Instagram. Maybe even Twitter if I’m having a really bad day.” Eponine added.

“But Ponine, my mom will say how cute I look on _everything_.” Grantaire whined.

“That’s my price.” Eponine said, becoming equally dramatic and flipping her hair.

“Fine. Fine, I’ll do it.” Grantaire sighed, “But it better not be something like ‘oh yeah, he’s going to be out running a sex hotline to fund the Amis’. That wouldn’t be that bad though.”

“Well… It _is_ Beerpong-a-Palooza-For-a-Cause night at the Corinthe tomorrow, and Enjolras gets pretty into it. It’s like the only night a year he even drinks regular beer. He usually wouldn’t be caught dead without one of those weird indie import brand drinks.” she said, smiling,

“Beer pong for a cause? We really are meant to be.” Grantaire said with a dreamy sigh, almost running into the door to their apartment, as he hadn’t been watching where he was going.

Eponine laughed a little, rolling her eyes. “Come on, you’ve got a big night to rest up for,” she snickered.

The next evening the music was blasting outside the Corinthe and it was filled to the brim with buff frat boys chanting “Drink the beer! Drink the beer!”  at the players. There were several different tables set up, and the blond activist was at the back of the bar, playing against someone from the Patron-Minette, the rival club of Les Amis. The person on the other side was terrible, but Enjolras wasn’t too hot himself.

Grantaire walked right up to him and leaned against the table. There was only one cup left on the other guy’s side, and Enjolras wasn’t drunk enough to miss yet, so Grantaire didn’t worry too much about blocking his shot.

“I call the next game.” He said with a grin, causing Enjolras to actually pay attention to him and miss the shot.

He glared, quickly focusing his attention back to the other ball, and tossing it in the cup, this time winning. The opponent let out a drunken groan, picking up the cup and drinking it sadly as he stumbled away. The scorekeeper at the bar took note, adding one victory to Enjolras’s initials on the chalkboard behind her.

“For the cause… Fine.” Enjolras sighed, looking at Grantaire, “I’m sure you’re not even that good of a shot.” he said confidently.

“Honestly, you’re probably a much better player.” Grantaire said innocently, grabbing some cups and beers from the bartender, who knew him a little and winked as she passed the supplies over.

He set up the game while Enjolras sat there, pouting, and handed Enjolras one of the balls.

“Alright, let’s play.”

Grantaire decided to miss his first shot, which Enjolras actually landed, to at least even the playing field a little. He drank his beer and watched as Enjolras failed his next attempts. He was given back his ping pong ball and he put on his game face. It was on.

He sunk his shot, while Enjolras missed, prompting Enjolras to pick up his cup and sullenly drink. He got both the balls then, and hit two more cups. Enjolras was still in the process of drinking them when Grantaire hit two more, causing Enjolras to glare at him.

Grantaire laughed and waited patiently for Enjolras to finish his four drinks, before continuing. Someone bumped into Grantaire’s back, causing him to miss one of his shots and forfeit one of the balls to Enjolras. Both of them hit their mark, so both of them had to drink, but the in the next toss Enjolras missed, so both balls were back to Grantaire.

At this point Enjolras looked like he completely skipped tipsey and even slightly-drunk. He was just barely on the edge of blackout-drunk and Grantaire was slightly concerned.

“Hey, are you sure you still want to play? You can always just forfeit.” Grantaire said, holding his hand out as if to use the force to keep Enjolras from tipping over.

“I,” Enjolras said grandly, “Am the best at beerponging. You are just,” He paused to hiccup, “Lucky.”

“Okay then.” Grantaire said, shrugging a bit to himself. The dude was a total lightweight, but he was an actual adult, so if he wanted to make these life choices more power to him. Grantaire got the next two into the cups and Enjolras sighed, draining them and burping loudly.

“Charming.” Grantaire laughed, distracting himself enough to miss. He missed the next one on purpose, just to give Enjolras a little break, and handed Enjolras one of the balls.

Grantaire’s ball hit it’s mark, sinking into Enjolras’s remaining cup. Enjolras never got to drink it, however, because when he threw his own ball, he hit the tale so hard at the weirdest angle, that it bounced up and behind Grantaire to where Babet was playing darts with the rest of the Patron-Minette, hitting the dart right out of the air and into Montparnasse’s white Vans.

Grantaire’s mouth was hanging open. Montparnasse was the type of guy who graduated from stealing kid’s lunch money on the playground with his band of thugs to just straight up mugging them. With knives. Grantaire was also pretty sure he could see blood seeping up into the fabric of the Vans, even in the dim light.

“I meant to do that.” Enjolras slurred. Grantaire looked at him incredulously as Montparnasse looked over at them with the fire of a thousand suns in his eyes.

“Yeah, and that was the winning point! You won! We get to go home now and go to bed.” Grantaire said, grabbing his arm and dragging him out the door before the Patron-Minette could chase them down.

“That sounds like you’re trying to sleep with me.” Enjolras complained, but didn’t really try to resist being led away.

“I’m not, I promise.” Grantaire said.

Enjolras hiccuped, leaning on Grantaire as they walked toward his dorm building. It was about a ten minute walk away, but with Enjolras’s stumbling it took twice as long.

“Thanks for s’wwalking me home…” he laughed a little, digging for his keys and opening up the door. Inside everything was neat and orderly, all sorts of posters from different protests, framed on the walls.

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own? Don’t want you to die in a pool of your own vomit.” Grantaire said, catching Enjolras as he nearly toppled over and sitting him down on the couch.

“I’m fine, trust me,” he leaned forward towards Grantaire, barely catching himself before their heads knocked together. “Absolutely ace.” He looked up at Grantaire with his blue puppy dog eyes, closing them and nuzzling against his shoulder, “Ss...h… tired…” he mumbled.

However tired Enjolras was, he didn’t seem to care, leaning more onto Grantaire, feverishly warm cheek pressed against his shoulder.

Grantaire looked up at the ceiling, ‘Lord give me strength.’ He thought as he tried to gently pry Enjolras off of himself. Enjolras wasn’t really having it though, clinging even tighter.

“Come on, Enj, you gotta let go. I’ve got to get home to watch some shitty movie on Netflix with Eponine and try to find a sparkly vest.” Grantaire said.

“Sparkly vest” Enjolras sounded transfixed, “But your eyes are already so… spharkly....” he trailed off, looking up at him, “You should just stay here,” he said, leaning even closer to Grantaire.

“Maybe that’s not a bad idea.” Grantaire considered, “I mean I could make sure you don’t do anything stupid and like grab you aspirin or something in the morning. If you’d just get off of me.” Grantaire looked at his arm, which he could barely even see as it was covered with an Enjolras, pointedly.

Enjolras was off of him for a split second, but only for one, as he mumbled something about behind hot, and took off his shirt. He cuddled against Grantaire again, closing his eyes a little, “Aren’t you hhhhot?” he slurred.

“No, but you are.” Grantaire blurted out, before mentally kicking himself. “I probably shouldn’t encourage you. You should get off of me and go to bed.” He ordered.

“Aw, come on Taire, everyone always said you were a _fun_ drunk. You’re being _lame._ ” Enjolras whined.

“I am not lame.” Grantaire said, offended, “But if anything happened _you_ ’d be mad at me, _our friends_ would be mad at me, and hell, _I’d_ be mad at me because all of you are mad. So no shirtless fun, no sexy times, just go to bed and go to sleep.”

“Nuh-uh…” he mumbled taking the bottom of Grantaire's shirt and tugging it upwards. “I wouldn’t be mad…” he hiccuped. When he’d managed to get Grantaire’s shirt around his head Enjolras collapsed on top of him, snoring loudly. He was clinging far too tightly to allow Grantaire to escape. So the two of them lie on the couch, shirtless, together.

“Oh fuck.” Grantaire whispered, his mouth half covered with his fucking t-shirt. He wiggled a little and Enjolras made a little sleepy noise and clung on even tighter, making it hard for Grantaire to breathe. “Oh no.”

…

The next morning, Enjolras began to stir. He was chilly, so he clung to his blanket- wait, this wasn’t a blanket. The blond looked mortified as he saw Grantaire there, scrambling to move back, falling off the couch. Enjolras’s eyes were wide, “Fuck- fuck- fuck-” he felt another presence too, stumbling into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him, loud enough to wake up even Grantaire.

Grantaire stirred, stretching and scratching his stomach. He looked around. Wait, this wasn’t his and Eponine’s couch. The events of the previous night came back to him as he heard someone turning on the sink in the bathroom.

“Aw, fuck my life.” Grantaire moaned, leaning backwards on the couch again, covering his face. He sighed and wiggled around, trying to get his shirt back down. Enjolras chose the moment when Grantaire was arched almost completely off the couch, fighting against the forces of friction, to walk back in. Grantaire quickly and awkwardly sat up, running a hand through his hair and smiling sheepishly.

“Good morning!” He said.

“You should… leave.” Enjolras said, placing his palm against his face and sighing. “I have a paper to write… or something.” he mumbled, looking both annoyed and embarrassed, “So thanks for walking me home or whatever…” His face was red.

“Hey, do you need any aspirin or something? Maybe you should pull your blinds.” Grantaire said, standing up as if to help. “You probably have a wicked hangover from last night.”

“Thanks, but you’ve done enough… last night.” Enjolras muttered, sounding vaguely upset.

“What?” Grantaire asked, “I mean I just sort of walked you home. And then offered to stay so you didn’t kill yourself. And then there was the whole thing where you started clinging to me and trying to take off our clothes because it was ‘so hot’.” Grantaire made little air quotes, “And then you kind of just fell asleep and drooled a bit.”

“We didn’t sleep together?” he asked, voice cracking, “Oh thank god,” he looked as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Alright, you should go, bye, thanks for looking after me-” he began to push Grantaire out the door, slamming it shut as Grantaire was pushed out the door. “Bye!”

“Farewell, mon ange, see you at the revolution!” Grantaire called through the door, his normal cockiness returning.

“Fuck off!” Enjolras shouted from behind the door. “You’re not invited!”

“Aw man, just when I’d started coming around to your way of thinking,” Grantaire teased, winking at a couple of girls who were walking past the dorm room, “What a shame.”

The girls giggled, walking away. Soon, the campus was abuzz with rumors of Grantaire’s escapades with a certain blond, who violently shot them down when confronted with them.

…

A couple of months passed, in which Grantaire’s crush became more intense, as did their arguments, but the rest of the Amis- who had mostly been his friends before the first meeting- had accepted him into their group.

One night Enjolras was sitting at an empty booth in the ABC Diner, with a cup of coffee in his hand. It was about 4am, and he had papers scattered all over the table. He looked frustrated, other hand in his messy blond hair.

Grantaire walked through the door, his favorite green hoodie, that he’d been trying to preserve from paint, now covered in a rainbow of color, mostly shades of red and a metallic gold. He was dead tired, and he just wanted some 24-hour-coffee. But when he noticed Enjolras he grinned to himself and slid into the booth across from him, flipping the empty coffee cup to signal for the waitress to bring out his precious liquid caffeine.

Enjolras looked up, annoyed, but Grantaire wasn’t really in the mood to actually fuck with him, so he just let his face fall into his hands.

“Oh man, it’s so late. I’m so tired.” He complained, “I’ve been up for like three days.”

“Mhm…” Enjolras mumbled, flipping through his papers. “So, what are you here for?” The papers were all of recent shootings and police brutality cases, many of people who didn’t remotely deserve what had come to them. He seemed transfixed by both his coffee and the articles.

“Coffee.” Grantaire replied. He flipped around one of the newspaper articles and started reading it, “Oh yeah, I followed this one. It’s really interesting, but if you’re using this for any papers I’d take it out. It’s such a controversy if she actually killed herself or if the police killed her. If you want people to believe you you have to hit them with hard facts first, then bring in the speculation, no matter how obvious it seems.”

“I know… I was debating it myself…” he sighed a little. “It’s just so hard to get people to care about something so important… I don’t get why they just act as if none of this is even really happening.” Enjolras took some more notes.

“Yeah, I get really mad when fat old men on the news decide that kids dying isn’t their problem. But, you know, that might just be because of Eponine’s brother.” Grantaire said a little dismissively, as though he thought Enjolras already knew what he was talking about.

“Eponine’s brother?” Enjolras looked up, “I didn’t know she had one.” he raised a blond brow. “What happened?”

“Oh, she never told you? He’s the whole reason she started going to the meetings.” Grantaire said, looking through the pages spilled across the table, “It was fairly recent so you should have it here… Yep. Here he is.” Grantaire pulled out an extremely short article about a boy getting shot in the street for looking suspicious and pickpocketing last year. There was even a little picture.

Enjolras quickly scanned the article, while Grantaire continued to talk.

“Yeah, there was no real outrage for them, since they’re Mexican and all, not black. And Gavroche _was_ pickpocketing, so people sort of just dismissed it as ‘justified’ if the even thought about it at all.” Grantaire said, looking bitter.

“He picked some spare change and a cell phone off a man, he didn’t kill someone!” Enjolras looked as if his tiredness had gone away and was replaced by passionate rage as he slammed his fist into the table. “How can people be this blind?” He seemed frustrated, quickly starting to scribble things into his notebook.

“Whoa, calm down a bit.” Grantaire said, as a the waitress who was bringing his coffee looked alarmedly at Enjolras, “Getting us kicked out of the only place that serves coffee this late at night won’t bring him back. Besides, if the world can’t care about the whole slew of people dying there’s no way they’ll care about one kid.”

Enjolras was going to say something to that, but he bit his tongue as Grantaire took a sip of his burning hot coffee.

“I cared a lot about this kind of shit for a while there.” Grantaire continued, gesturing to the papers on the table, “But nothing ever changes, how are we supposed to change anything? It’s useless. Better to just honor his memory and move on than to try to get justice at this point.”

“But… we can make a difference, if we try. Don’t you understand?” he frowned. “We can make the people see that this senseless violence needs to end.” Enjolras spoke more calmly, holding his warm coffee, as if to calm himself down.

“Sure, in like fifty years, maybe. But that doesn’t help Eponine right now. It doesn’t help any of the families or the prospective victims. All it does is make a controversy for politicians to argue about.” Grantaire ran a hand through his hair and sighed, then put a smile back on his face, “But it’s whatever, right? Gotta keep our spirits up or whatever.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras put down his coffee, taking the man’s hand in his. His own hands were delicate and pale, and looked much smaller compared to Grantaire’s larger tanned ones. His eyes were glistening with some sort of passion, “I promise you, before I die, I will make a difference.”

“Thanks Enjy.” Grantaire said, blushing a bit. He’d blame the late night and paint fumes later for being more mushy than his usual sarcastic self. He took a deep drink of his coffee and twisted his hand up a little so that he was almost holding Enjolras’s hand. “Means a lot.”

Enjolras blushed a little as well, but a faint genuine smile was still present on his lips.

…

The following night Les Amis met again at the ABC Diner, and Enjolras was making a passionate and well spoken speech about a recent shooting in Chicago that the world was up in arms over. Some homeless man who happened to be schizophrenic had been asleep on a park bench when a police officer woke him up. The man acted defensively, attacking the officer, who in turn shot him. America was divided.

Grantaire had heard the news that morning on his way out the door to class, but he wasn’t aware of the enormity of the news until he got to his debate class and his professor declared that it was the ‘hot topic’ of the day. Since he liked the class and actually paid attention, he was almost prepared for what faced him in the meeting at the Cafe ABC later that evening.

“Almost” is the key word, though, as he was not prepared to see Enjolras getting up onto a table, looking like there was literal fire in his eyes, and enough passion and willpower in his voice that he probably could have talked the Titanic out of sinking.

“Are you with me?” Enjolras asked the crowd of his friends. They all cheered, and the cute blond waitress Marius had been staring at the whole time, let out a wistful sigh. “Then we shall organize the biggest protest you have ever laid eyes on- it three months time, we’ll turn this country around!”

“Are you sure there’ll even be support in three months? All it takes to distract people are the Kardashians getting another house and then all that passion is gone.” Grantaire pointed out, sliding into a booth next to Jehan, who was busy braiding Eponine’s hair.

“Of course there will be, we’ll drum up support around the campus, don’t you know the power of social media?” Enjolras asked him, looking taken aback that Grantaire would even suggest that people would not be as infuriated by this injustice as Enjolras was.

“Even then, the news is saying that it was self defense. I mean, the man _did_ attack the officer.” Grantaire argued.

The other Amis were watching this conversation unfold, but-since most of them had been friends with Grantaire before he joined the little activist club-they decided to just let it play out a little. Courfeyrac and Combeferre started their own, smaller scale and less dramatic debate of the same topic. Jehan was trying to convince Marius to go and talk to the blonde waitress. Eponine, Bahorel, and Feuilly were discussing protection measures, if the protest was going to be an actual thing, and Bossuet and Musichetta were trying to convince Joly that no, he did not in fact have the early signs and symptoms of bird flu.

So no one was really there to back up Enjolras’s side of said debate.

“Yes- but-” Enjolras looked annoyed, “That man needed help, not a shot to the chest, don’t you think?” He asked, crossing his arms. “Nothing is worth killing someone else over.” he frowned. “It should be one’s own choice to give up his life, to a cause or something noble.”

“Eh, it was still self defense. Did you want the officer to die at the hands of a crazy man? And besides, it was just one cop, an isolated incident. Not all cops are like that.” Grantaire said dismissively, “No need for a _protest_.”

Enjolras glared at him, “Are you kidding me? Violence like this is happening everywhere!” he got down from off the table, “ _You_ should know this better than anyone!” Enjolras seemed more than a little ticked off, storming off.

“‘You should know better than anyone’?” Eponine repeated looking at Grantaire, what’s he talking about.

“I might have told him about Gavroche last night.” Grantaire admitted, “But only because I kind of already thought he knew.”

“Gavroche?” Combeferre asked, listening in to the talk.

“That was my little brother. He pickpocketed someone about two and a half years ago and a cop shot him.” Eponine summed up in a deadpan that told everyone not to ask questions. “Grantaire, Enjolras doesn’t get that you’re just arguing pointlessly with him, he thinks you actually think that way.”

“I got that.” Grantaire said, looking slightly miserable as he looked towards the door.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Combeferre offered, getting up. “He’s a little hot-headed sometimes, he probably just needs to vent.”

Combeferre left the table and walked out the door, finding Enjolras sitting on the curb outside the diner.

“Want to tell me why you decided to storm off like a little kid, rather than actually come up with an argument for Grantaire?” Combeferre asked, sitting beside him.

“I’m tired of hearing the same broken record from everyone. It’s an ‘isolated incident’, ‘it doesn’t matter’ you know… all that shit.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “You can take over, I’m going home for the night. I’m tired.” He shrugged, not really giving Combeferre much time to object or reason with him, as he began to walk across the parking lot. It was in that moment, a loud engine revved.

Now, Montparnasse had been trying to get back at Enjolras the whole week, but every attempt he’d tried had only ended in failure, and most of which Enjolras hadn’t even noticed.

Montparnasse had taken the dart to his foot the night of the beer pong incident as a direct insult and had vowed revenge. His objective was to injure Enjolras, but mostly to scare him. He had tried three previous times.

Once, a failed mugging, as Enjolras had ducked down underneath Montparnasse’s giant friend Gueulemer’s arms, looking in his bag for something or other. And he had made it out of the alley before Gueulemer could try to grab him again, unnoticed.

The second time, he tried to get Claquesous to tie him up or something, but Enjolras hadn’t taken his normal route to school, since he was avoiding the Amis who were gossiping about him and Grantaire at the beerpongalooza.

The third time Babet had tried to rig up a mini tear gas bomb type deal, stealing one of Enjolras’s bags and setting it to go off after Enjolras presumably went home, but alas he fucked it up and Enjolras just found a weird hunk of metal at the bottom of his bag and threw it away.

So Montparnasse decided that if you wanted something done right you had to do it yourself.

Meanwhile, Grantaire had just left the diner to apologize to Enjolras for being a dick when he saw a car driving straight for the blond man.

“Enj, look out!” He yelled.

“Huh?” Enjolras stopped right in his tracks. Montparnasse had been trying to just clip Enjolras, but he had sped up too fast to stop when Enjolras had just stopped right in front of him. Luckily the blond was in the middle of the front of the car, and it was not too low to the ground.

Enjolras grunted as he was hit in the rib cage, falling onto his back, the car went right over him, but luckily the tires missed him. Montparnasse did not know that, however, and quickly sped off, leaving Enjolras groaning on the ground in pain. His arm was definitely no longer the way an arm should look and his chest looked like it was dented.

“Owwwwwwww…” he rolled onto his side a little.

Combeferre panicked, “Oh my god, Grantaire, call the ambulance!”

Grantaire was already on his phone talking to the 911 operator. He answered their questions and informing them of what had happened while Combeferre rushed to Enjolras’s side.

“His spine is fine, but we need to get him out of the street.” Combeferre called to Grantaire, who told the operator to hold on and went to help carry Enjolras.

Combeferre grabbed Enjolras’s feet while Grantaire got his arms underneath Enjolras’s torso, and they moved him the bare minimum about to get him out of the way of any oncoming traffic. Grantaire could tell that Enjolras was trying not to scream or cry, as he was pretty sure he would be doing that in the same situation.

Combeferre was poking around at his arm, trying to see if he could splint it at all or if he needed to wait for the ambulance, so Grantaire went back to his phone call.

A horrible cough racked Enjolras’s body, and blood appeared on his lips. Panic clenched Grantaire’s stomach and crawled up towards his heart.

“Combeferre… he’s going to be okay, right? He only got hit a little, right?” Grantaire asked after the 911 operator hung up.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Combeferre said, not feeling sure at all. “He’ll be fine.”

Soon the ambulance arrived and left Grantaire and Combeferre behind and Enjolras was taken to the hospital.

“How drunk are you?” Combeferre asked, turning to Grantaire.

“Stone cold sober.” Grantaire answered seriously. He had a test in Art History the next morning and he actually needed that class to graduate.

“Okay…” Combeferre dug his keys from his pocket, handing them over to Grantaire, looking very worried, “You take my car, and get to the hospital, and I’ll tell Les Amis and catch up with you there. Do not get into an accident.”

“Got it.” Grantaire said, rushing off to find Combeferre’s car. He drove to the hospital at breakneck speeds, mildly surprised he wasn’t being pulled over.

He gave his keys to the valet, another way hospitals got you to put money into their pockets, and ran off to the information desk, demanding to know where Enjolras was. They let him into the ER waiting room, as he wasn’t family, and he texted the Amis where to meet.

The Amis arrived shortly and began their mostly silent, worried wait. Grantaire was sure he’d never heard them so silent. Joly was running around trying to find something out about Enjolras’s condition, as he interned at the hospital. Eponine had to work about an hour into their vigil. Feuilly had to leave two hours later for the same reason. After four hours Jehan was asleep on Courfeyrac, Combeferre was silently reading on his phone (he had a test in five hours), Bossuet and Musichetta had to go home because they had a dog that needed to be fed and let out, but they promised to come back after a quick nap, Bahorel and Marius were just sort of flipping through magazines and glancing at the TV every once in awhile.

Grantaire couldn’t focus. He pulled out his sketchbook and drew little doodles so that none of the Amis would bother him, but all he could think about was that if he wasn’t such an asshole maybe Enjolras wouldn’t be this fucked up right now. He needed a drink. But he needed to be there for Enjolras more right now.

“Grantaire and others?” A confused sounding pretty blonde nurse called out. That was the name Grantaire gave at the desk.

“That’s us.” Grantaire said, shooting up and rushing over. “Is there any news? He doesn’t have any family so you can tell us, right?”

“Not unless we have consent from the injured party, but he gave that. I’ll take you guys to a room to tell you about his condition.” She said, leading the remaining Amis into a room.

She told them that his arm was broken in three places, but there was a cast on it now, he had a minor concussion, and cracked ribs. He had a little bit of internal bleeding, but it wasn’t anything to worry too badly about. In short, if he listened to the doctors he should be fine.

“Oh yes, and his jaw is cracked, so no making him talk. You guys can go in, but be quick. And only one person can stay the night.” The nurse ordered.

Enjolras lie in bed, looking pretty out of it, as he stared at the ceiling. His right arm was wrapped in a bright neon pink cast, and both his sides were taped up. His chest was fairly bruised as well, covering most of his pale porcelain skin that was exposed.

The remaining Amis piled into the room for a quick visit, Combeferre pushing his way in first. “Oh thank god,” he said when Enjolras turned his head to face them, looking more irritated than anything else.

The Amis mostly just said tired “get well soon”s and “don’t you ever dare do that again”s and “why the fuck didn’t you move out of the way”. After a couple minutes of Enjolras looking more irritated than ever before, most of the Amis left to go get some sleep. Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Grantaire were the only ones to remain.

“Well, you’re allowed to have someone stay with you overnight.” Courfeyrac said in a cheerful voice, trying to lighten the mood. Enjolras’s glare was redirected entirely onto him.

“I have a test that I have to go to to graduate.” Combeferre said, standing and stretching. He patted Enjolras’s good shoulder. “Don’t die here with these two.”

“Hey!” Courfeyrac said, offended, “We’re perfectly capable of handling Mutejolras over here.”

“You. Out.” Enjolras muttered, barely moving his lips.

“Aw, mom. Do I have to leave?” Courfeyrac complained. Grantaire snickered a little, causing the glare to be shifted to him, before he held up his hands in surrender.

Courfeyrac and Combeferre left, closing the door behind them.

“So I guess I’m staying the night, then?” Grantaire asked, winking and relining in his hard, plastic hospital chair.

Enjolras let out an audible, but quiet sigh, jaw still clenched. He seemed to relax a little though, body easing up, closing his eyes. It was an unconscious sign of trust to have Enjolras let his guard down in front of anyone.

“Hey, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for being an asshole about the whole gun thing. I honestly only argue with you so you can be prepared for the opposition. I agree with a lot of stuff you say, really. And I was sort of worried after you coughed up blood that I wasn’t going to be able to tell you.” Grantaire said awkwardly, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, mushy part over.”

“...Fuck… you…” Enjolras growled, eyes still closed, but his lips formed a small smile before it disappeared as he winced. He shivered a little bit, sighing.

“Are you cold? They keep these rooms freezing for some fucking reason.” Grantaire said, getting up and grabbing a blanket from the closet next to the mini bathroom. He draped it over Enjolras’s torso. “Being shirtless can’t help. And the blanket covers that fab pink cast.”

“...” Enjolras opened his eyes to look at Grantaire, “Thanks… Uhm…” he trailed off, about to mumble something else but stopped instead.

“What do you need? A nurse?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras looked as if he were debating something for a while, before moving his good arm, and waving it over his cast, as if he were painting it.

“Oh man, I was always so bad at charades. Something about your cast. Is it because it’s hot pink and glorious?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras let out a long sigh, letting his arm fall back to his side.

“Did you want me to make it a different color? I can do that. I can paint whatever you want on it.” Grantaire thought a moment, “You’re always talking about the French Revolution, I could paint the flag, that’d look pretty cool.”

Enjolras smiled a little, “Sure.” He winced again, closing his eyes, looking tired. “Come here…” he said very softly, if Grantaire didn’t hear him, that was fine.

“Yeah?” Grantaire asked, moving closer.

Enjolras reached out his good hand a little, taking Grantaire’s warm, larger hand and squeezing it a little. Enjolras’s own hands were cool and a little shaky. He had been terrified when he’d gotten hit, and now he was in pain. But… at least Grantaire was there.

Grantaire squeezed back and let go for a second so he could drag the chair over, before sitting and taking Enjolras’s hand once more/

“Get some rest. I’ll be here.” He said, smiling and pulling out his phone with his other hand so that Enjolras might believe that he wouldn’t just be watching him the whole time.

Enjolras barely nodded, letting himself fall asleep in front of Grantaire.

…

Enjolras sat in Grantaire’s apartment, his arm resting on the kitchen table as Grantaire painted his cast. In his other hand was a juice box that he casually sipped from, watching the television, paying no attention to Grantaire.

“Almost done…”  Grantaire said, grinning as he put the final touched on the plaster cast.

“Hm?” Enjolras looked over, blinking as he saw an epic battle scene of the barricade boys from the June Rebellion. “Uhm…”

“Do you like it?” Grantaire asked, looking a little unsure.

Enjolras nodded, giving him a quick reassuring smile, “Thanks,”

It had been a few days since Enjolras had been released from the hospital, and already he was (slowly) going around his daily routine, ignoring any warnings of rest. He even tried to argue with Combeferre, shouting “Revolution does not rest!” before doubling over in pain holding his jaw.

…

Soon Enjolras was able to walk around without limping and able to talk again. His cast remained on his arm, however, and it earned him quite a bit of teasing from the Amis.

Grantaire had taken to hanging out with Enjolras quite a bit around campus, as their schedules and breaks lined up almost perfectly. Enjolras even grew a little more tolerant of Grantaire’s over the top flirting. And their arguments were less biting insults and more reasoning. But it was a work in progress.

“That’s why I was saying we should talk about this incident, it embodies all of the injustice that we want to point out.” Enjolras pointed to an article as he sat with Grantaire in his dorm, writing his speech for the upcoming rally, now only two months away.

“I mean, it’s a good enough story, but the other one has a video so you can more clearly see how quickly it escalated.” Grantaire argued.

“It’s a speech Grantaire, I don’t know any film students that can set up a screen big enough to show a video to that many people…” he sighed, seeming irritated at Grantaire’s lack of understanding. As he put down his hand it rested atop Grantaire’s before he quickly withdrew it, blushing. He still had made a point of never addressing Grantaire’s feelings.

“Fine, I guess I see your point.” Grantaire sighed, drinking some of the beer he had brought over. “Hey man, I have an idea. We should go out and take a break.”

“I guess…” Enjolras nodded. “Where to?” he asked.

“I don’t know, maybe…” Grantaire smiled sarcastically, “Beer pong?”

“Fuck you, no way.” he glared at him.

Grantaire laughed, “Alright no beer pong. How about we get food? I’m starving and it’s about dinner time. And there’s this restaurant like three blocks away that served the best food.”

“Sure.” Enjolras said, getting up. He was expecting a low end diner, like the ABC, but when he arrived, he saw it was anything but. It was a high end French bistro, and looked rather expensive. “So… this is your favorite place?” Enjolras asked nervously as he walked in, behind Grantaire.

“Yeah, I’m telling you, the steak bruschetta is to die for.” Grantaire said with a wistful sigh, “I’d eat it every day, all day.”

He held the door open for Enjolras. The bistro was filled with couples. The maitre d’ led them to a quiet table and told them the waitress would be there shortly.

“So… this place is… nice.” Enjolras gave him a forced smile, actually nervous out of his mind. This was a date. He hadn’t planned on this being a date, it was supposed to be relaxing, like a lunch break.

“Yeah, one of my friends from work took me here on lunch like a month ago and now I’ve just been like craving it forever.” Grantaire looked at his menu. “So what are you getting?”

Dinner was an awkward affair, to say the least. Enjolras had been anxious the whole time, but overall, he had to say, for a date, it _was_ pretty nice. Grantaire was even somewhat behaving himself.

When it came time to walk Enjolras back to his dorm, the two departed, walking through the now dark streets. Grantaire walked him straight up to his door, and Enjolras opened his door a little, “Well, I… Guess this is goodnight then.” he said, looking away his cheeks flushed.

Enjolras had decided somewhere about halfway through the walk home that if Grantaire kissed him on the doorstep like a cliche first date, he’d be okay with it. As the walk went on he got more and more okay with that little thought in his head, and by the end he was even secretly looking forward to it.

Which is why he was so disappointed when Grantaire said “Night babe!” and waved, turning away.

“Wait. What?” Enjolras looked deeply confused, blinking.

“‘What’ what?” Grantaire asked, equally confused.

“N-nevermind!” Enjolras quickly said, his face turning red as he slipped into his dorm, slamming the door, and sliding down it on the inside. He. Sucked.

“Wait!” Grantaire pounded on the door, “What were you what-ing about?”

“Wasn’t that a date?” Enjolras’s voice was muffled by his hands, covering his whole face. He was so embarrassed.

“Wait, I don’t think I heard you right,” Grantaire said, “Did you say you thought that was a _date_?”

“Well I expected you to take me to like… I don’t know, the ABC, not some high end restaurant that serves twenty dollar entrees!” He said, looking up from  his hands, “Is that not a date?”

“Oh.” Grantaire said thoughtfully, “Enjolras, open the door.”

“Seriously? No, it’s fine, you can like… leave or whatever.” Enjolras blushed, standing up, shaking his head to himself.

“I’m serious, Enj, open the door.” He said, grinning widely. One of the girls who saw him outside of the dorm those months earlier was walking past again and he waved a little.

“Fine…” Enjolras said opening the door up, not looking at Grantaire, but the ground. His cheeks were bright pink.

Grantaire lifted Enjolras’s chin with his hand and leaned in, slowly bringing their lips together. He moved his hand so that it was cupping the blond’s jaw and moved his lips a little, trying to make this the best kiss Enjolras had ever had, in hopes he’d come back for more.

He slowly moved away after a moment, letting his hand fall and looking back at Enjolras’s pink face.

“I had a great time, mon ange.” He said, grinning.

“...” Enjolras was somewhat speechless, nodding a little, “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Grantaire sounded somewhat disappointed.

“W-wait- I didn’t mean- agh- I’m so bad- so bad at this…” Enjolras gripped his blond locks in frustration, “I-I mean…” he blushed, suddenly, offering out a hand for Grantaire to take, “Do you want to maybe… stay the night?” Enjolras looked like he would die of mortification, but at the same time, like he was trying his hardest, as if he really wanted to try.

“...Wait, what?” Grantaire asked, blinking.

“Oh just fucking shut up.” Enjolras said, flustered and leaning in to kiss Grantaire. Even though he wasn’t bad, it was clear he was just mirroring what Grantaire had done moments earlier. He was… very new to this. New, but a passion that he usually only saw in Enjolras’s speeches seemed to ignite in him. He was so… hot.

Grantaire slowly backed Enjolras up into his dorm and closed the door behind them, while maintaining the kiss. Grantaire didn’t mind being an exobitionist making out in the hall, but he didn’t think that Enjolras would appreciate it as much.

Grantaire turned them around, holding Enjolras against the now closed door and deepened the kiss. He moved his tongue against Enjolras’s lips and when he opened his mouth slipped it inside.

This seemed to confuse Enjolras a bit, as he broke off the kiss, “Uh…” he blushed, “That’s normal… right?”

“Tongue? Uh, pretty much every, um, kissing or other thing involves tongue.” Grantaire said, confused. “Enj, have you ever, like, kissed anyone before?”

Enjolras looked away, “I’d rather not say.” he crossed his arms.

“Aw come on, Enj!” Grantaire said, stroking his face and touching their noses together, “Who was your first kiss?”

Enjolras blushed, sinking down to his knees in front of Grantaire, “It’s you…” he said, very quietly, too quiet to really hear as he did something unexpected, to avoid further confrontation, unzipping Grantaire’s pants.

“Wait, wait.” Grantaire said, holding onto Enjolras’s hands. “You sure you want to do this? I mean, you’ve never done anything with anyone, are you, like, ready?”

“It’s not like it’s rocket science or something…” Enjolras glared up at him a little. “I know you think I can’t do anything but write speeches and shout at people… but…” his cheeks were flush, but he seemed determined.

“No, it’s not that you’re not good at stuff,” Grantaire said with a laugh, pulling Enjolras back up to his feet, “Maybe we should try something a little less extreme first?”

He dragged Enjolras along to the couch where they had fallen asleep months before and sat, pulling the blond into his lap. He unzipped Enjolras’s pants and slipped his hand inside, while nuzzling his face into his neck, intent on leaving a hickey for all to see.

Enjolras gasped a little, previously unaware that the skin on his neck had been so sensitive. He froze as he felt Grantaire's hand on his dick. He quickly buried his face into Grantaire’s shoulder, body responding to Grantaire’s touch.

“F-fuck…” he mumbled, legs slightly shaky from stimulation.

Grantaire started to move his hand, making Enjolras moan into his shoulder.

“See, it’s just like doing it alone.” Grantaire said, his hand moving faster. “Just relax, Enj.”

“It’s different though…” He held Grantaire’s shoulders tightly. He felt Grantaire’s hand moving up and down against his skin, his cock stiffening. Grantaire smirked a little, Enjolras’s voice was too cute. He wanted to hear more of it…

“It’s better, right?” Grantaire asked, breath hot on the back of Enjolras’s neck. He felt Enjolras getting closer to his limit and grinned.

“M-mhm-” his voice was shaky.

“Good,” Grantaire smirked, suddenly stopping.

“Huh?” Enjolras looked up in surprise, before he was suddenly lying on his back, legs on Grantaire’s shoulders. “Ah-” he looked away, his cheeks completely flush as he covered his eyes with his casted arm.

Grantaire leaned down, dipping his head between Enjolras’s legs and taking his member into his mouth, gently sucking it. Enjolras could not stifle his voice nearly enough, moaning loudly.

“Grantaire- I- I’m going to- ah~!” he cried out as he climaxed. Grantaire swallowed, only a little escaping his lips. Grantaire sat up, dragging his thumb across the white fluid on his lips, licking it, his eyes lustfully focused on Enjolras, who’s eyes were wide, surprised by how sexy Grantaire could be. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you.” Grantaire said softly, kissing Enjolras deeply, and pulling the blond into a hug and back down onto the couch.

“...You’re welcome?” Enjolras blushed, his face pressed against the chest of Grantaire, and feet hanging off the edge of the couch. He closed his eyes as Grantaire hugged him. He was so warm...

The next afternoon Grantaire left his apartment to go get some coffee, he was in for a long night since one of his big art projects was due two days from then and he had to give it an adequate amount of time to dry.

He walked into the Cafe Musain, the annoying little bell going off as the door swung shut behind him. It was the lunch rush, so he couldn’t really see the barista, but he figured if it was Marius’s pretty blonde he could maybe get her number for him. He stared at the menu, trying to decide if getting food was worth it, and suddenly he was at the front of the line.

And there was Enjolras, looking bright red and flustered. Grantaire broke into a wide grin.

“Hey baby, how’s work?” He asked, leaning heavily on the counter.

“...Please order…” Enjolras sighed a little, putting a hand over the mark on his neck. “You’re holding up the line.”

“Whipped double shot vanilla, extra creamer, cinnamon mocha latte with ice.” Grantaire recited, “And one of those weird turkey sandwiches. Can’t you get me a discount, angel?”

Enjolras is about to respond with a deadpan “No.” when one of his coworkers comes up next to him looking concerned.

“Hey Enjolras, is this guy harassing you?” The guy asked.

“No he’s uh… ‘m boyfriend…” Enjolras mumbled the last part.

“Your what?” his coworker blinked.

“My good friend!” Enjolras repeated it loudly, of course, also differently.

“The _best_ kind of friend.” Grantaire grinned

Within a few seconds Grantaire was covered in cold coffee, standing before a pissed looking Enjolras. “Go away.” he said with a straight look on his face, walking away.

The blonde waitress that Marius had been crushing on came up, looking worried, “Uh, what was your order again? I’m sorry about that-” she looked embarrassed on behalf of her coworker’s behavior, “I’ll get you a new one.”

“Thanks, sweetie. And hey, can I ask you a weird favor?” Grantaire asked as he moped coffee off of himself with paper napkins.

“Yeah?” The girl asked, looking up from where she was already remaking his coffee.

“Can I get your number? Not for me! I’ve got my hands full with Apollo over there.” Grantaire laughed, pointing towards the door Enjolras had stormed through, “There’s just this guy I know who’s been crushing on you for, like, ever. And I can taunt him with it.”

“Sure…” The girl said, taking out a business card and scribbling on the back. “I’m Cosette, by the way.”

“Grantaire.” Grantaire took his coffee and sandwich from her. “Thanks, and tell Enjolras that my love for him burns like a thousand suns.”

Cosette laughed and Grantaire took his leave of the shop, saluting on the way out.

…

When Grantaire arrived at the ABC, all the Amis were already present, harassing a very flustered looking Enjolras in a scarf, with questions.

“Aww, so you two are dating?” Musichetta teased.

Combeferre looked somewhat disappointed, but kept quiet, pretending to study. Meanwhile Eponine, Courfeyrac, and of the few others were helping to tease Enjolras.

“Shut up…” Enjolras crossed his arms, “I don’t know…” he brushed his blond hair out of his eyes, wearing his usual look of disapproval, “My only true love is social justice.” he tried to sound  cool, but it only caused Les Amis to laugh even harder than before. “Guys! We have to be serious here! The protest is coming up-”

“Did you actually say that out loud?” Courfeyrac asked between laughs, “Like really? And no one got it on camera? Oh man.”

“Congrats, R.” Eponine said, trying to keep a straight face, “Your boyfriend is probably the biggest dork on the planet.”

“I know, isn’t it cute?” Grantaire asked, slipping into the booth next to him and holding his hand, “And when he blushes to goes so perfectly with all that red he wears.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he said, pulling his hand away, quickly holding his papers in his hands, “This protest… It’s serious, we have to be properly prepared.” he sighed a little. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt unless there is no way to avoid it.” He seemed more serious than usual. The truth was, he had a bad feeling about the protest, but it was important to him, so he wasn’t planning on giving it up.

“Yeah, we should start planning.” Combeferre interjected, causing Enjolras to shoot him a grateful look.

“Okay, first order of business. Posters.”

…

Over the next month Enjolras had become more accepting of Grantaire’s behavior, still disapproving of his too-open and playful attitude about everything… But it did add to his charm, Enjolras would admit.

Enjolras was expecting Grantaire over any minute now. Grantaire thought it would be like any of their other normal dates they’d had lately, but Enjolras envisioned something more. He swallowed a little as he brushed back his hair, the curls always falling in his face now. Suddenly, a knock came at the door, and Enjolras jolted out of his day dream.

Grantaire smiled at Enjolras as he opened the door, “Hey babe, so, did you want to go out somewhere?” When he saw how neatly Enjolras had cleaned up, with a candle sitting on a table with the food Enjolras had picked up from Grantaire’s favorite restaurant, he smiled, “Nevermind.”

Enjolras shrugged a little, blushing. “I thought for once I could do something nice.”

“It’s perfect.” Grantaire grinned, giving Enjolras a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

Dinner was filled with conversation, for once, not arguments. Finally they retired to sitting on the couch, Enjolras’s head rested on Grantaire’s shoulder.

“Grantaire… You know… that I really do… love you… right?” he blushed. He hadn’t said it yet, but this was the first person he’d ever cared about as much as his passion. Not even Combeferre was quite on the same level.

Grantaire blinked, for once the one who was blushing. “Really?” He knew that Enjolras had finally taken a liking to him, but he hadn’t been expecting a confession.

“Yeah.” Enjolras said, smiling a little.

“Well… I love you too.” Grantaire smiled, kissing him. Enjolras took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, moving onto Grantaire’s lap. Although they had been fooling around during their last month together, they hadn’t gone really any further than the first time, in fact, it had been somewhat toned down. Enjolras’s thin body against his as they kissed turned him on. He picked the blond up, carrying him over to the bed and laying him down on the sheets.

“I want you…” Grantaire whispered in his husky, deep voice.

“I want you too,” Enjolras replied, leaning up to kiss Grantaire’s neck, pulling his shirt up. Grantaire assisted him, pulling it off the rest of the way and tossing it aside. Soon all of their clothes lie on the ground beside the bed, and the two were completely transfixed with each other.

Grantaire looked down at him with lust in his hazel eyes, “Do you permit it?”

Enjolras nodded, and Grantiare’s hands wandered to his entrance. Slowly and gently, he pressed a finger in. Enjolras stiffened, but Grantaire eased his tension with a long and hot kiss. He slid another finger in, gently moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, to make it a little less hard on Enjolras. slowly a condom was slipped into Grantaire’s free hand, making him laugh a little.

“How long have you been saving this?” he asked, in a soft voice.

“Long enough…” Enjolras tried not to sound too embarrassed.

Grantaire put it on, and gently lifted Enjolras’s legs onto his shoulders. “Are you ready?” Enjolras nodded, holding Grantaire’s shoulders. Slowly, Grantaire pushed his cock into Enjolras. The blond bit his lip, tensing.

“Shh,” He said kissing his forehead, and staying still for a moment, “I love you…”

…

The next morning Grantaire woke up in bed with Enjolras draped across his torso. He fidgeted a little to get into a more comfortable position and Enjolras curled more tightly around him, mumbling something in his sleep.

Grantaire smiled softly and brought his hand up to stroke Enjolras’s hair, making the blond sigh happily in his sleep.

About ten minutes later Enjolras began to stir, sleepily blinking and looking up at Grantaire.

“Good morning, Apollo.” Grantaire said, looking down at him.

“Morning…” Enjolras rubbed his eyes. He groaned a little, his hips ached.

“I’m faced, with a dilemma this morning, my love.” Grantaire said, half jokingly.

“What’s that?” Enjolras asked, playing with Grantaire’s curly hair.

“Should I get up so I can sketch you so I can capture this moment? Or should I stay in bed with you for the rest of eternity?” He asked, faking a torn expression.

“Well, if I’m being completely honest… I’d draw because I don’t think I’ll be sitting still long enough for another time.” he smiled a little, lazily dropping his head back on the pillow as Grantaire ran his fingers through the blond hair. “I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

“Alright then.” Grantaire said, getting up and quickly getting his sketchbook, before settling back into bed. “You’re so beautiful in the morning.”

He blushed lightly, leaning up, the white sheet draping over him like a model. He leaned his cheek against his palm, blue eyes even brighter in the new morning sun. “Grantaire… why do you like me?”

“Well,” Grantaire began, starting his drawing, “When I first saw you I thought you were a Greek God fallen to earth in a shitty coffee shop uniform. But what really drew me in was your personality.”

“Really?” he asked, watching him sketch. He seemed at a loss. Most people felt the opposite way about him. “Hmm…”

“Why do you like me then, Apollo?” Grantaire asked, looking up from his sketch.

“Uh… well… I guess I like the way you… You’re just so different. You’re usually more light hearted, you joke around… I can let my guard down.” he said. “It’s nice.”

…

Grantaire arrived late to the protest. The Amis and about 150 other students were standing in front of city hall, picketing and doing those weird chants.

“You’re late.” Enjolras accused as Grantaire kissed his cheek.

“A queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early.” Grantaire returned, grabbing a sign.

“The police are on their way… If they hurt anyone…” He looked upset. “If they hurt anyone, we fight back.” Enjolras said, gripping a bright red flag he’d been holding up that read, ‘Control Your Officers”.

“We have a permit, right? We should be fine.” Grantaire said, shrugging and hoisting up his “FUCK THE POLICE” sign.

“Well… yeah, we do.” he nodded. “You are taking this seriously, right?” he eyed Grantaire’s sign.

“Of course,” Grantaire smiled.

“Good.” Enjolras smiled back briefly before he heard the sirens. Several squad cars pulled up outside of city hall, policemen pouring out, looking on guard.

All of the protesters seemed to become silent for a moment, making eye contact with the men in uniform, also on guard. Finally one protester shouted, “Fuck the police!” and a good portion of the crowd rushed forward.

Enjolras’s face paled, “Wait! Stop!” he shouted, trying to calm down the crowd that had pushed him aside as they ran. “Shit,” he panted, running forward with them, trying to get ahead to stop them. It was too late however, the police were already ready for a fight. When Enjolras saw one of the protestors falling to the ground after a whack to the leg with a baton a fire ignited in his eyes.

“Stop!” he shouted, getting close to another officer, “He was unarmed! You people think you can just subdue us with brutality!? This is exactly what we’re fighting!” he yelled. He still wielded his flag, looking very tense. The crowd cheered him on, but they were still very rowdy.

“Step back, sir.” the police officer said, hand on his gun holster, at the ready.

“What? Why? What’ll you do, shoot me like you shot so many others?!” He was getting closer and more aggressive. Combeferre looked worried, starting to push forward through the crowd. “You wouldn’t dare!” Enjolras shouted, raising his flag. The officer took it as a threat, quickly withdrawing his gun and firing at the blond’s chest. It was in that moment that the whole crowd rushed forward again, more angry and thirsty for blood than before. Enjolras was quickly lost in the crowd.

Grantaire rushed forward, afraid Enjolras would be trampled by the crowd. The protesters were pushing the police line backwards, and some were running away, so soon Grantaire could see Enjolras on the ground.

"Enjolras!" He yelled, sliding to his knees next to the blond.

"Hey, R." Enjolras said, his voice sounding hoarse. His chest didn't look quite right, and it looked like it was taking him a lot of effort to breathe.

"Apollo, Jesus you scared me." Grantaire said, his voice shaking, "We've got to get Combeferre or Joly over here..."

There was a loud popping noise as the police let a spray of rubber bullets rain down across the crowd. People fell, and others ducked for cover, running away.

None of these bullets hit Enjolras and Grantaire, and there was a brief reprieve from fire. The crowd was thinning, what with the injuries and the deserters. The police were moving forward again, using their riot shields to push the protesters back.

The police raised their guns again and Grantaire wasn't going to dare moving Enjolras for fear of injuring him further.

Grantaire looked down at Enjolras and raised himself up a little bit, shielding the blond from the police's line of fire.

"Do you permit it?" Grantaire asked, smiling down faintly at Enjolras.

Enjolras shook his head slightly, but the sound of the bullets rang out across the scene, and Grantaire fell, as if in slow motion, sideways next to Enjolras.

"Grantaire?" Enjolras whispered, struggling to breathe.

He noticed something fly by and fall to the ground next to him. A tear gas bomb. It just registered in his mind before it exploded into gas, choking him so he couldn't get any oxygen. The world swam out of focus and his vision turned black.

...

When Grantaire woke, Combeferre was in the hospital room, “Grantaire!” He looked over, eyes wide, “Thank god you’re finally up- try not to talk to much… And don’t move.” he frowned. “Your lungs are still kind of bad… and you got hit pretty hard in the head…” Combeferre scooted closer to his bed, “Are you feeling okay?”

"My head hurts. What happened?" Grantaire asked, trying to look up at Combeferre but not really able to focus.

"You got shot by a rubber bullet. The fucking cops aren't supposed to aim for the head, it's one of the leather areas." Combeferre said, looking pissed. He rarely swore so Grantaire registered that something was really off, but he couldn't really put his finger on it.

"Wait. What were we doing?" Grantaire asked, "To get shot. What were we doing?"

"There was a protest." Combeferre said, "About police brutality, ironically." He let out a bitter laugh.

"Wait." Grantaire said. His head felt all fuzzy, the painkillers and the concussion weren't doing him any favors. "Where's Enjolras? I was looking for him..."

"He got hurt too. The doctors said you probably tried to keep the bullets away from him, but you can't see him now, okay?" Combeferre said, grabbing Grantaire's hand to try to keep him from attempting to get up.

"I want to see him!" Grantaire said, trying to get himself up out of bed, but not succeeding. "Where is he?"

"He's in the ICU." Eponine said, coming through the door. "And you need to calm down, R. Rest for fuck's sake. You could have brain damage."

"It's not like there was much there to begin with." Grantaire muttered, "Letting him do this stupid protest, what was I thinking?"

"Chill." Eponine said, sitting at the foot of his bed, "Ferre, Courfeyrac needs you to switch with him. He has to go home and sleep, if he tries to stay up any longer he'll probably end up as one of the patients."

Combeferre nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

"How are the others?" Grantaire asked at length.

"Jehan and Bousset got hit by rubber bullets, but the others are mostly fine. There's a few scrapes and bruises, but whatever." Eponine said with a sigh, "You and Enjolras are the worst off, the rest of us were at a different part of the line of police. Only a couple of the pigs actually shot."

"That's good. You didn't get hurt?" Grantaire asked, grabbing her hand.

"Nah, you know me. First sign of trouble and I was gone getting a getaway car." She said, "Stole Ferre's keys right out of his pocket. It was a good thing too, that's how we got you and Enjolras here."

There was a comfortable silence for a while, then Grantaire turned his big puppy dog eyes up at Eponine.

"I've got to see him, Ponine." He said quietly. "The ICU is serious. He could die."

"I know." She said softly, "But we gotta go through this the smart way. Combeferre probably told the desk that you're awake, but after the nurse or whoever is done checking you we can go and hijack a wheelchair for you."

"Fine." Grantaire agreed.

A doctor came in a moment later and did an initial check that dragged on for an entire agonizing half hour. Afterward though, Eponine was true to her word and even got Joly and Bousset in on the plan. Joly and Bousset distracted the Amis, telling them that Grantaire wanted to be alone, while Grantaire was wheeled to the ICU by Eponine.

“He hasn’t woken up yet.” Eponine said as she wheeled him down the hall to the wing with the industrial “INTENSIVE CARE UNIT” sign.

Grantaire didn’t reply.

"We're supposed to wear masks," Eponine said, slipping one on Grantaire's face, over the oxygen tube in his nose. "And it's cramped, so you'll have to walk a bit."

She helped Grantaire up and supported him with one arm, dragging his IV drip with the other. They walked to Enjolras's room in silence and when they got there Eponine helped Grantaire hold onto the rails of Enjolras's bed, since there were no chairs.

Combeferre was there, and he raised an eyebrow at Eponine for bringing in Grantaire, but when Eponine slipped her arm through his and led him out the door he didn't protest.

Grantaire looked down at Enjolras. He looked terrible. There was this machine making a horrible noise as it helped him breathe. His face was all bruised for some reason. Maybe the stampede? Grantaire couldn't really remember.

“Hey Apollo.” Grantaire said, brushing a stray hair out of his face, “They say you haven’t woken up yet and I’m pretty worried. but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

The only response was the machine breathing for him.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything.” Grantaire whispered, “I can never do anything. I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t help Gavroche. I can’t do anything.”

He sniffled quietly for a minute, willing tears away.

“You know, you shouldn’t have mouthed off to the cop.” Grantaire said with a watery laugh, “But you had to, right? You and Gav are so alike. He probably did the same thing, he always had some smartass comment to make.”

There was silence for another moment.

“I don’t think I can deal with another funeral, Enj.” Grantaire said, “Hell, I don’t think I even own any black. And I can’t be looking disrespectful at your last party, right?” His voice was getting a little hysterically cheerful, “So you have to wake up. You have to.”

Still nothing. Grantaire had been a fool, but he sort of hoped that there would be miraculous made-for-TV-movie scene, where as soon as Enjolras heard Grantaire’s voice he’d wake up.

“I love you, you know.” Grantaire said, echoing Enjolras’s words from earlier. “I love you so much.”

Eponine came in then, saying that they had to go back to the room if they didn’t want Grantaire to be found out. Grantaire left without argument, stroking Enjolras’s hair one last time and hobbling back out the door.

…

One week later Grantaire had been discharged from the hospital, but he still stayed there every day with Enjolras. The blond had been moved from the ICU to a normal hospital room. His lung had been fixed, but he was still in a coma. They think it’s because he was asphyxiated by the tear gas.

Grantaire had taken to telling Enjolras what the Amis were up to while he was out. Marius had finally called Cosette and noticed that she seemed to work virtually everywhere. Bahorel and Feuilly were beginning boxing lessons for little kids. Grantaire was speculating that Eponine and Combeferre were going to be having a thing, and Jehan was coming into the ABC diner with more and more of Courfeyrac’s sweaters, so he was probably staying over a lot.

They all came to visit occasionally, but Grantaire was the only real constant, only taking brief food and shower breaks.

Grantaire was just finishing up a story about Joly’s fight to get Musichetta to let them have a dog, when he heard a noise from the bed.

“Nhh…” Enjolras grunted a little, opening his eyes. For the first time in a week Grantaire was able to see how blue they were. They were glassy though, watering up quickly. Tears streamed down Enjolras’s cheeks, he thought he had died. He thought Grantaire had died.

“E-Enjolras? You’re awake?” Grantaire stuttered, “Oh man.” He grabbed the cup of water he’d been drinking, “They told me you’d be thirsty when you woke up. Here, drink this.”

Grantaire held the straw to Enjolras’s lips, and the blond took a few sips, his eyes transfixed on Grantaire.

Enjolras stopped, coughing a little, “Grantaire?” he asked softly.

“Yeah?” Grantaire asked, his face split into a wide smile.

“Are you alive…?” he asked, frowning. He looked very out of it.

“Yeah, Apollo. I’m alive.” Grantaire grabbed Enjolras’s hand. “I wasn’t so sure about you for a minute there, but we’re alive.”

“We are?” he blinked, finally he looked back at him, “... Fuck the police.” He coughed a little, suddenly regaining his perpetually irritated face.

“That’s what I’m saying.” Grantaire said, nodding fervently, “But no more protests for a while, okay? After you get out of here I’m making you stay in bed with me for like a year.”

“Are you kidding? I have to reorganize right away, that was bullshit.” he argued, “It’s exactly what we’re fighting against.”

Grantaire leaned down and pressed his lips to Enjolras’s, effectively silencing him for a moment. When he pulled back he leaned his forehead against the blond’s and sighed.

“I was so scared, Enj.” Grantaire whispered, “I thought I’d have to go to another funeral. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“...Fine.” he sighted, smiling a little. “But I’ll never stop fighting for justice. Fighting for you.”


End file.
